


Forget December

by Evondahlkilledthelocals



Series: Drabbles [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Christmas, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:37:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evondahlkilledthelocals/pseuds/Evondahlkilledthelocals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since he declared himself dead when he was in the military ten years before, he avoided spending Christmas in the United States due to the temptation to return home and see his family. He went once, the Christmas after the Inception job, and looked in from the outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget December

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Forget December" by- Something Corporate
> 
> Needed to write a melancholy and slightly angsty Christmas fic to get my mind to stop racing. Sorry to bring the depressing stuff on Christmas eve, loves.
> 
> Happy Christmas, though!

Ever since he declared himself dead when he was in the military ten years before, he avoided spending Christmas in the United States due to the temptation to return home and see his family. He went once, the Christmas after the Inception job, and looked in from the outside. His older sister, Zoe, and her husband had two kids, one about five and one two or three. His mother was older than he remembered and his father was using a cane. His younger brother, Cameron, had a young woman with him and they both wore Cambridge hoodies and attire. Arthur watched as they sat around the lounge watching _White Christmas_ together, like Arthur had always remembered, and had to leave when his brother almost caught him.

That is why ten years later, Arthur was home and alone, how he preferred to spend his holidays in the recent years. Christmas Eve was never a large celebration for him, usually just involving watching _White Christmas_ and _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ to keep up tradition. He would sit down, rumpled and in just sweats and a plain t-shirt, with a throw blanket his mother had made him when he first left for the military and a cup of hot chocolate in one of her old tea mugs he nicked before he left them permanently. That year saw no difference as Arthur set his hot chocolate down on a coaster, looking around for a sign of his blanket. The menu of his old _White Christmas_ DVD played an instrumental score, which he hummed along to quietly as he searched for the throw.

A knock at his door made Arthur freeze up, his gaze traveling to the heavy wood with a concerned look. Only two people knew where he lived and both were supposed to be out of England for the holidays. Arthur grabbed his glock from underneath the table he kept for fake décor in his entry hall, flicking off the safety as he slowly opened his door. He aimed before looking, jumping at the familiar “Oi!” that greeted him. Arthur rolled his eyes, switching the safety back on before setting his glock on top of the table, “How did you find this place Eames?”

“Ari told me to come here,” Eames mumbled, making Arthur take him in for the first time. Eames looked terrible. He was smaller than when Arthur last saw him on a job they worked together three months before. Extremely small, actually, to the point that Arthur would even say he was sickly looking. He seemed to be drunk, though Arthur could not be sure, and his leather jacket hung loosely off him. Eames looked up, meeting Arthur’s gaze for the first time with distant and empty eyes. Arthur frowned at the sight, making a point to excessively look Eames up and down. Arthur sighed, motioning for Eames to come inside. Eames walked in with a dejected walk, jumping when Arthur closed the door behind him and locked it. He led Eames over to his couch, sitting him down as he glanced up at the window. He smiled at the sight of snow, making his way into his kitchen to prepare another cup of coco.

Arthur watched Eames from behind as Eames ran his fingers through his hair. The ding from the microwave made Eames jump again, making Arthur grimace once more. Eames was never so jumpy before. Arthur entered the room again, offering the coco wordlessly as he hit play on his remote. Before the movie began, Eames sighed and set his chocolate down, “I went to see my family today. Stopped in to the house and all to look in. My cousin saw me, made a deal out of it, and I had to leave. They think I died three years ago, because it’s been getting too soddin’ dangerous to have anyone attached to Frederick Eames. This is the first Christmas I went back to see how they spend it without me and it hurts so bloody much to see them so happy like they’ve moved on…”

“Eames,” Arthur frowned, scooting closer as the movie kicked in, “I know.”

Arthur didn’t have to say more. He knew that Eames understood. That was what Arthur always loved about the two of them; they never had to say a word and would still understand everything. Eames sighed in content, leaning on Arthur so that his head rested on Arthur’s shoulder as he stared at the Christmas tree Arthur set up by his television. Arthur reached up, letting his hand rest at the nape of Eames’ neck to massage there, “You’re getting smaller…”

“I know…been running a lot…”

“You don’t have to run,” Arthur murmured, pressing a small kiss to Eames’ temple. Eames nodded, closing his eyes as his body relaxed for the first time since he walked in the door. Arthur glanced at the clock, 12:01 glaring at him brightly. Arthur pressed his nose on the top of Eames’ head, his lips brushing the top of Eames’ ear as he spoke lowly, “Merry Christmas, Eames. You’ll always be family here…”

“Thanks love. You too, yeah?” Arthur felt Eames smile against his shoulder, though what was unsaid hung heavy in the room. That was the thing with Arthur and Eames however; they never needed to say what they meant out loud. They knew that when they called each other family, they meant that they loved each other deeply and unconditionally.

Arthur found that with Eames, he was content to spend his holiday not alone for once.


End file.
